


Stubbornness Is Clearly An Inherited Trait

by lavender_demon (Lady_Lavender)



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Blood and Injury, Dadgil-flavored, Gen, Griffon POV, Zine: Little Boy Lost Little Boy Found - A Dadgil Zine (Devil May Cry)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:01:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28090569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Lavender/pseuds/lavender_demon
Summary: V gets injured in a fight, and refuses to stay down. His son will force him to rest, Or Else.(Originally for Little Boy Lost, Little Boy Found: A Dadgil Zine)
Relationships: Nero & V (Devil May Cry)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 57





	Stubbornness Is Clearly An Inherited Trait

In Griffon’s opinion? V looked like shit. A stray Assault had gotten a good swipe in at Shakespeare’s leg before Shadow ran the demon through with a few dozen spiky bits. Not enough to kill the thing, but enough for V to chuck an equal number of spectral canes at it for the fatal blow.

Unfortunately, that was all V could manage before he passed out. _Fortunately_ , a dozen years of teamwork meant that Griffon and Shadow could stay out long enough to drag V’s sorry ass back home, with Griffon’s wings doing far too much work to keep the big kitty from turning into a goo hammock under their favorite twig’s ridiculous and entirely unfair weight. Once they were back, the kid could take care of things. Nero was a good little night light that way.

V woke up a handful of times during the trip, and each time he insisted on trying to walk. Maybe Griffon would’ve let him, if every attempt didn’t wind up with V collapsing in a lovely little puddle of blood. That cane was dead weight now, too, because V’s scrawny arms couldn’t hold up to even the tiniest set of push-ups on a good day. Between blood loss and probable shock, those noodles were useless.

They (eventually) made it back to the flat V had ‘acquired’ after the Mallet Island incident. Not having any hope of getting his demonic powers returned to him and a kid to raise meant that at some point, something in V’s thick skull had to give. Stability was a good thing for a teenage part-demon, though, so Griffon counted it as a win.

“Hey Glowstick! C’mere and gimme a hand, will ya?” Even in an emergency, Griffon couldn’t stop himself from giving Nero some shit. It was kinda cute how the kid would get flustered and argue back. Sometimes he even got embarrassed about that orange glow from his arm when everything was all soft and quiet and content. A pity Griffon wouldn’t get to see it today.

“Griffon, what the fuck? How many times have I said to—” When Nero saw the state of his dear old dad, all that puffed up pride and anger just drained away along with whatever color the kid had.

“Holy shit, Dad? Are you alright?” Nero rushed over to take the bulk of V’s weight off Shadow and give Griffon a much-needed break.

It only took a few seconds for Griffon to land on the ground and start hopping after Nero. Could he fly? Yeah, sure, but his wings were fucking exhausted right now. Better to bounce after Nero and give those feathers a rest. “He’s in bad shape, Nero, not gonna lie. Would you believe his stubborn ass kept trying to walk every time he woke up? Also he, uh, lost a fair bit of blood. Dunno how much humans can lose, but I’m pretty sure that morbid trail of breadcrumbs he left wasn’t exactly any kind of safe, yanno?”

Nero swore, taking off his own jacket and shirt to put some pressure on that wounded leg to stop the bleeding. When talk of an ambulance came up, Griffon did the smart thing and let his powers meld back into V. His job was done for now—time to let Nero pick up the slack.

* * *

The next time Griffon got called out, they wanted him to settle a father-son argument. He cackled and watched as Nero held V’s cane well out of reach. V looked a bit better, at least, if a bit silly in some handmade sweater Nero’s gal-pal Kyrie had made for him last winter. It’d always been too big for anyone inside the house—well, except for Nightmare, but finding clothes to fit Nightmare would be impossible.

“Griffon, would you mind retrieving my cane from Nero?”

“No way, Dad. You can hardly walk even on a good day. Your leg’s too fucked up right now to risk it.” For all his rebellious teenage attitude, Griffon had to admit Nero was a pretty big softie underneath all that angry bluster.

Griffon cackled as he swooped over to land on Nero’s arm. Hadn’t he been thinking the exact same thing while dragging V home? “Sorry, Princess. Me and Shadow had to pick you up more than twenty times on the way back here because you were too stubborn to just enjoy a free ride. I’m not wishing that experience on anybody.”

Boy, Nero looked a lot like V when he got all smug. Same expression. Like father, like son, right? “See? I fucking told you, Dad. Go ahead, stand up right now and take it from me. If you can do that without falling over, I’ll give it back.”

If looks could kill, V would’ve offed a few hundred folks by now. Including his own son, apparently. “Depriving a man of his mobility aid is a cruel thing, Nero. I thought I raised you better than that.”

“So we get you a wheelchair until your leg heals up. Later. Doctor said you need to rest.” Ah yes, a battle of wills. This was the kind of thing Griffon liked to watch. Now if only he had a bucket of popcorn to stick his beaks in.

V cocked his head to the side, probably trying to come up with the perfect reply. “Am I to assume you will be carrying me to the bathroom as needed, Nero?”

The old embarrassment tactic, classic move for trying to get a stubborn kid to back down. Nero shook Griffon away and rubbed his nose. Couple of moments passed in silence before Glowstick took his dad’s cane back to his room. “If it’s in the next couple hours, yeah. After that, Uncle Dante can drag you there the rest of tonight.”

“Dante’s coming over?” Hoo boy, that was one hell of a sleeping demon panther to poke. This was bad. “You wouldn’t leave me defenseless against Dante, would you?”

Demonic powers or no, V and Dante still went at it, but at least now their sibling bickering involved a lot fewer stabbings. That cane was usually a spacer to keep little brother from violating V’s personal bubble.

Griffon landed on the back of the sofa while Nero came out with his comeback. “If Uncle Dante does anything out of line, I’ll beat him with your cane myself.”

A bit of surprise and amusement ran through that bond V shared with all his familiars, and Griffon laughed as V seemed to seriously contemplate the offer. “I think I might actually like to see that.”

The tension in Nero’s shoulders all but melted away at the joking, and he sat across from V on the coffee table. “Alright, good. Sorry I brought you to the couch, I just thought it’d be nicer to stay out here instead of cooped up in bed all day with not much to do.”

Aww, Nero was being all soft again. Always happened around his dad, and it was almost sickeningly sweet to see.

“I suppose it’s preferable to my brother coming into my bedroom.” Aha, there was that little smile. The one V used when he was happy instead of stabby.

Nero nudged his dad with an elbow. “Could be worse. We could be living with Uncle Dante, and you’d have to put up with him all day and night.”

Shakespeare groaned and covered his face with his hand. “Don’t remind me. I’d rather deal with Mrs. Ricci upstairs than live in my brother’s hovel.”

While they both shared a bit of a laugh at Dante’s expense, Nero’s arm started glowing that gentle gold instead of the usual blue. That meant the kid had relaxed enough with his dad that his really soft side was starting to show. Glowstick, indeed.

Heh, maybe it was time to poke the hornet’s nest.

“Aww, if I was the kind of bird to have teeth, they’d be rotting out right about now. You two are being all mushy, a nice big happy family. Be a shame if I got the kitty to snap a photo and show it to Dante, wouldn’t it?”

V and Nero really were a lot alike. Same expression, same indignant cry at the thought of their ruined pride, even the same way they both reached for empty mugs to chuck at Griffon. Said cackling bird managed to dematerialize for a split second, rematerializing several feet away just in time to hear those mugs shatter against the wall.

This was a good family, and a good home. There were a lot of things Griffon wished could’ve been different in their lives, but Nero wasn’t one of them. Griffon, Shadow, Nightmare, and V all came from the same place, so he felt confident in speaking for all of them in that much. Together, they were a fractured father and his son up against the world.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the fic that taught me how much fun writing Griffon's POV is.


End file.
